


The Rose

by Candy_A



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Holiday: Valentine's Day, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candy_A/pseuds/Candy_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets some valuable advice for Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Romance/sap alert! And a little m/m, of course...

## The Rose

by Candy Apple

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly owns the guys and The Sentinel. No money being made. Just for fun.

* * *

The Rose 

by 

Candy Apple 

Jim wandered down the aisle of the brightly lit discount store, staring at the shelves laden with Valentine's gifts. There were stuffed animals, candy of all varieties, silk flowers, real flowers, and as he moved away from the Valentine display and passed the clothing departments, he spotted the usual racy lingerie and boxer shorts bearing everything from lips to love declarations to hearts placed right over the... 

//Yeah, I'd want a big red heart painted on it...// Jim thought, curling his lip as he made his way back to the automotive department and picked up a new oil filter for the truck, some wax, and a new set of floor mats. Loading the items in his cart, he started back toward the front of the store again, figuring he'd spent about as much time as he could handle in here. 

Back past the Valentine's gifts again. 

You don't buy Valentines for your best buddy. Guys who tried things like that usually got a fist in the face for their trouble, or prolonged, uncontrolled laughter from the recipient of the gift. Jim wasn't sure which would cut deeper coming from Blair. 

But Blair wouldn't do that. He'd be gracious about it, he'd make a fuss over it, he'd say thank you, and then he'd go into his room and laugh soundlessly until tears ran down his face. Or he'd start considering moving out, figuring that he had somehow given Jim the wrong idea. 

All because of some damn box of candy or some stupid stuffed red bear. 

Or the boxer shorts with the big heart right over the... 

//Oh, hell...no harm in browsing a little. It's free to fantasize...// 

Wandering down the aisle of candy and stuffed animals and fake flowers again, Jim took a few things off the shelf for a closer look. That seemed to earn him a couple of smiles from women who were jockeying into position to reach past each other and grab just the right item. //Probably think I'm out here last minute buying my wife something to get my fat out of the fire...// 

Deciding a red teddy bear definitely wasn't the answer, he set it back down again and moved farther down the aisle. As he did, he bumped into the edge of an old lady's shopping cart, trying to move around her. 

"Excuse me," he said, giving her a faint smile. 

"I think I'm right in the way here," she apologized, moving the cart a bit more to the side of the central path. 

"You're fine," Jim assured, easing past the cart and looking at the array of candy boxes with a dispirited sigh. The frail little woman smiled up at him. 

"She'll like whatever you pick out--as long as you get something," she advised, patting Jim's arm with an arthritic hand. 

"Think so, huh?" Jim asked, smiling back at her. 

"So long as you don't forget," she said. "In 67 years, Edward never forgot." 

"Your husband?" Jim asked, picking up one of the more tailored heart-shaped boxes, and knowing he was still on the wrong track. 

"We were married in 1934, at the town hall--my parents didn't approve," she confided, smiling. 

"Guess we know who was right about that one," Jim responded, and she laughed a little. 

"I was eighteen," she said, and Jim looked back down at her, surprised. She was barely five feet tall, due in part to being a bit stooped with age, but given her overall mobility, and the fact she was navigating through a giant discount store, pushing a cart instead of being wheeled around herself, Jim hadn't estimated her age as high as it was. "You wouldn't know it to look at me now, but my friends said I was the prettiest bride they ever saw. We were married on Valentine's Day," she added. 

"Nice time to get married," Jim responded. "And I'm sure you were a very pretty bride," he added. In the bright blue eyes, he could still see a little spark of youthful beauty, and the full, wavy white hair could have been quite spectacular when it glowed with some rich color. As it was, the lined face was still carefully adorned with a bit of make-up. And red lipstick. 

"How long have you been married?" she asked. 

"I'm not. I'm divorced, actually. I was looking for a gift for a friend." 

"Is this a special friend?" she asked, smiling. 

"Very. But, uh, we're not exactly involved or anything..." Jim stammered. "It's a friend." 

"But you want it to be more?" she asked, nodding and scanning the shelf, as if she had the answer now. "Real flowers die too soon, and they're hard to press in books--the big roses don't always work so well." She moved a few feet away, then returned with a single, long-stemmed red velvet rose, which was wrapped with a little bit of clear cellophane decorated with white hearts, to make it look as if it had come from a florist. She handed it to Jim. 

"I don't really think he's the type for roses," he said, the "he" slipping right out unintentionally. He expected the woman to be abhorred by the thought. She wasn't. 

"You might be surprised. On Valentine's Day, grown men buy little stuffed pink kitties," she said, nodding toward a cart that was passing them, navigated by a big, burly-looking man in a camouflage jacket. Amidst his hardware and household supplies sat a small stuffed kitten holding a white lace heart, and a card of some sort from the rack a few aisles away. "Now, you give this to your friend, and you tell him how you feel." She patted his arm again and then took a hold of her cart, starting to push it away. 

"Wait--what if--well, I haven't really thought this out very well." 

"Yes you have. How long have you been wandering around the Valentine displays?" 

"Edward...is he..." Jim didn't know a tactful way to ask, and somehow, it seemed important to him to know. 

"He passed on in January." She smiled. "But he'll remember Valentine's Day," she said, her eyes filling a little. She turned and started moving away again. 

"Wait!" Jim called after her. When she turned, he smiled. "Thanks for the advice. I'll try it." 

"Good. You're not so young anymore--if you want a nice long life with this friend of yours, you better get started," she advised, waving a slightly crooked finger at him. As he chuckled and nodded at that advice, she turned and finally made her way toward the front of the store. 

* * *

Jim walked down the hall from the elevator and turned the key in the lock. He opened the door, scanning the apartment for his partner. The Volvo was in the lot, so at least if Blair was about to launch on some big date for Valentine's Day, he hadn't left yet. 

"That you, Jim?" Blair's voice carried from the small bedroom beyond the partially closed French doors. It was on the tip of Jim's tongue to ask who the hell Blair thought it was that had a key to their front door, but bit back on that response. Not a good way to launch a declaration of romantic love. He rescued his rose from the bag with the oil filter in it. 

"Yeah, Chief, it's me." In a moment, Blair was in the doorway of his room, glasses in place, hair loose on his shoulders, dressed in a favorite olive-colored baggy sweater and some faded jeans that weren't exactly baggy. The outfit ended in a pair of heavy thermal socks. Whatever Blair had planned for Valentine's Day, it didn't look like it included going out for the evening. 

"Get the stuff for the truck?" he asked conversationally, padding over to the sink and rinsing off a plate that had obviously held some sort of snack he'd taken to his desk. 

"Yeah. The floor mats were on sale." //Geez, Ellison, you really know how to surround a man in romance.// 

"Cool. Got any plans for tonight?" Blair asked, wiping off his hands and turning around. He seemed to notice that Jim had something behind his back, but for the moment, he didn't ask about it. 

"Just going to have a quiet night at home. You have plans to take some lucky lady out for a romantic dinner for two somewhere?" 

"Not exactly." Blair looked around Jim by inclining his head slightly to the left. "What've you got there?" He gestured toward Jim, and there was a slight crackling of cellophane as the hand bearing the concealed item moved a bit. 

"Uh, I got something...at the store." Jim waited as Blair glanced at the two plastic bags on the kitchen table. "Besides that stuff," he added. "Shit, this is a disaster," Jim said defeatedly, and moved his hand to bring the rose around in front of himself. "Here." He handed it to Blair, who looked at it with a mixture of shock and confusion. Then he looked back at Jim 

"Jim?" Blair asked hesitantly, still holding his rose as if it were the most fragile thing on earth instead of a fake velvet rose from the discount store. 

"Yeah?" he responded in a tight voice. 

"What is this for?" Blair asked nervously, gesturing gently with the rose. 

Jim stared at him for a long moment, then moved closer to Blair. Framing the troubled face with both hands, he looked into the two intent blue eyes. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, Blair." Jim leaned forward, a little awkwardly, and hesitantly covered Blair's lips with his own. The kiss was gentle and tentative, and while Blair responded, it was a shy little response with barely the touch of tongue-tips. "I love you," he said, figuring if he'd gone this far, he might as well go for the gusto. 

"I wonder if this means...that you...that you maybe love me like I love you?" Blair asked hesitantly. 

"With all my heart, more than anyone else, forever?" Jim supplied helpfully, his voice shaking a little. 

"Yeah," Blair responded, smiling. "With all my heart, more than anyone else, forever," he repeated. 

Slowly, they leaned in toward each other, and their lips met in their second kiss. It was slow and gentle, but this time, mouths opened and tongues met, and the kiss deepened until they found themselves wrapped tightly in each other's arms. When they parted, Jim kissed the end of Blair's nose, making him smile brightly. 

"I met this old lady in the store, and she told me that I should bring you the rose, and tell you how I felt. I figured since she'd been married for 67 years, she knew what she was talking about." 

"Sixty-seven years? Wow..." Blair shook his head, and then smiled again as Jim carefully removed his glasses and set them on the kitchen counter. Then he carefully kissed both eyelids. 

"She very correctly reminded me that I wasn't getting any younger, and if I wanted a nice long lifetime with the person I loved, I'd better get started." 

"I don't understand...I mean, I do understand, but...I didn't think you could ever see me this way." 

"Because you're a man?" 

"You noticed," Blair quipped. 

"The flat chest and the whiskers were a dead giveaway, Chief." 

"That's not always conclusive evidence," Blair added, chuckling. Then he became serious again. "I've known I had bi tendencies since I was a teenager. I was really attracted to this one guy in college, but I asked him out, and it was a disaster. I never dated another guy after that." 

"What happened?" Jim asked, frowning with concern, hooking a finger under Blair's chin to raise his eyes again. 

"He and one of his friends put me in the hospital. Beat me up so bad that I missed two weeks of classes. I was only seventeen, and I was stupid...not careful." 

"Damn." Jim pulled Blair into a tight embrace. "Did you report the bastards?" 

"He was popular. He had lots of friends. I just got better and then I sort of faded into the background. Spent lots of time in the library--not like that was a change or anything, but I just steered clear of him and his friends, and they left me alone. I know I should've pressed charges, but I was all by myself here, I was underage, and I was scared. I wasn't a big kid...I was just too scared to sign a complaint." 

"Didn't Naomi do anything about it?" 

"I lied to her along with everybody else. I told them it was a bunch of guys, that they made some remarks about my hair--so the cops would think it was a simple gay-bashing kind of thing--but that I didn't get a good look at them." Blair was still clinging tightly to Jim. "You just don't know when you approach a guy. I mean, if you make a mistake... I like women, so I just dated women from then on. It was easier. Until I ran into you..." 

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Blair. You never should have been hurt that way for just asking somebody out." Jim pulled back a little and pushed Blair's hair gently back from his face, hooking it behind an ear, tracing the shell with his thumb. 

"So many times I wanted to say something, but I was...gun-shy I guess, after what happened before. And I didn't think you were...gay... or bi..." 

"Neither did I. Maybe I was kidding myself. I don't really know. I never went after another guy before. Never really wanted to all that badly, until I saw you," Jim added, smiling and caressing the side of Blair's face. "I saw this wild-haired headcase jumping around in his office, and I was a goner." 

"You pushed me into a wall, Jim. Weird way to show your affection, man," Blair teased, smiling. 

"Because you had no right to look so damn sexy and smell so good and turn me on that way when I needed your help. When I was going insane, and then suddenly, my body decides after thirty some years that it's gay and wants to have its wicked way with you right there on your desk?" 

"Your senses were freaking out." 

"That's true. But even though I was teetering on the edge of it, I wasn't insane. I knew what I wanted." Jim kissed Blair again, briefly. "I just didn't have the balls to go after it." Jim took a hold of the hand Blair had rested on his chest and kissed the fingers. "And I'm so sorry I pushed you against the wall, Blair. I didn't mean to hurt you--" 

"You didn't. I've been pushed into walls before--I know enough how to flow with it." 

"That doesn't excuse it. I give you my word, I'll never handle you that way again. I promise." 

"You haven't pushed me around for years, Jim. You were going berserk, and I wasn't really getting to the point...it's ancient history--" 

"But after what you told me, I feel even worse about it." 

"Don't. That's ancient history too. I was a naive kid and I made a mistake and I got hurt." 

"The old lady I met--she and her husband got married on Valentine's Day." 

"And it lasted them 67 years, huh?" Blair asked, grinning. 

"I was thinking maybe we could go for 68." 

"I was thinking maybe we could go for forever." 

"Even better." They kissed again, and this time when Jim pulled back, he cleared his throat a little. "You, uh, want to go out or do something?" Jim asked, hating how awkward and unromantic he sounded. He might have asked Blair the same question a week ago, and they'd have ended up at the new action movie down at the local theatre. //Carolyn was right--you're about as romantic as a doorknob.// 

"I got some food--steaks, and some stuff to make salad...I figured if you didn't have any plans tonight either, we could make dinner together," Blair explained. "I really wanted to spend tonight with you--even before we talked." 

"We could go somewhere nice--out, if you want." 

"We can do that," Blair said, nodding. "But I kind of like the idea of some privacy. I've got candles, and we could put on some music, and, uh, you know, have dinner...and...well, you know, see what happens..." Blair shrugged. 

"That sounds perfect." Jim took both of Blair's hands in his. "I want to cook dinner with you for the rest of our lives." 

"Guess we ought to get started then, huh?" Blair said, smiling and squeezing Jim's hands. 

"Yeah, I guess we should." 

The two men moved together in the kitchen the way they always did, sharing the food preparation duties, stealing samples and now, stealing kisses and standing impossibly close together while they worked. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and soft music played on the stereo. Candles were lit for dinner, which was shared and nibbled between kisses. 

When they finally moved upstairs, things were awkward and clumsy and tentative. Zippers stuck, buttons became challenging, and both were nervous until Blair caught his foot while trying to kick off his jeans and fell on the bed with them still caught around his ankles. The tension broken with the shared laughter, Jim joined him on the bed and they managed to discard the rest of their clothing. 

At last embracing skin on skin, they kissed and caressed one another, exploring all the forbidden places that would now become their shared territory. 

Jim took in the sensations of having Blair's hair-dusted body rubbing against his, the smell of his shampoo and aftershave and the wine they'd had for dinner, the texture of his skin, every little plane and curve of his body. 

Blair felt the power in the large arms that encircled him, and listened to the steady thumping of his lover's heart beneath the firm, sculpted chest he kissed and nibbled now as they were moving together. 

Cocks aligned and instinctively, the two men began rocking, increasing the friction, demanding kisses becoming more and more frenzied as they worked toward their first shared climax. 

Lying entwined and sated, with the comforter finally pulled over their cooling bodies, they shared the kisses and silly little love words lovers do, and relished finally having what neither of them thought was possible. 

"Not bad for beginners, huh?" Blair commented, indicating their sticky condition. 

"I think we need a lot more practice, though." 

"No arguments there, man." Blair smiled and sighed contentedly. Nestled naked against Jim, his body wasn't opposed to a little more "practice" any time now. But at this moment, just reveling in the closeness was all he wanted to do. "Did you find out that lady's name?" 

"'Fraid not. Just that her husband's name was Edward, and that they'd been married 67 years." 

"So they got married on Valentine's Day, in the town hall, in 1934, and his name was Edward. You're a detective. You could find out." 

"I probably could, yeah." 

"I want to do something nice for her. I mean, she gave you the little push to bring me the flower." 

"Yeah, she did that all right. It was the rose or a pair of boxer shorts with a heart right here." Jim slid his hand down and gently fondled Blair's balls. The younger man groaned and arched against Jim. 

"They would've just ended up on the floor anyway," Blair finally responded, laughing. "I always did wonder about the point of Valentine lingerie. If things are going well, it sure isn't in use very long." 

"I thought you might be offended by the rose. You know, think it was too...I don't know..." 

"Guys can get flowers too, Jim. Besides, a single red rose is a symbol of love. And what's best about this one is that it'll look just as beautiful when we're old as it does now." 

"Kind of like you," Jim said, tracing a cheekbone with his thumb. 

"Don't bet on it. I might get wrinkly and fat." 

"Then you'll be my chubby little Shar-Pei." Jim dived into the spot between Blair's neck and shoulder and made a horrible noise there, then nipped at the spot. 

And thus began a night of epic lovemaking that stretched well into the morning hours... 

* * *

Jim walked into the bullpen, still finding it hard not to go over to Blair and kiss him instead of settling for a simple "Hey, Chief" like always. It seemed like they couldn't get enough of each other these days, and Jim chalked that up in part to their never having had a chance to get away for a honeymoon. Maybe in the spring... 

"What's wrong, Chief?" Jim asked as he approached the desk, seeing the sad look on his partner's face. He pulled up a chair. 

"She's dead." 

"Who's dead?" Jim frowned, and Blair slid a newspaper in front of him. 

"I was looking through some old papers for this article I wanted to keep, and you know how Simon has a bunch in his recycle bin, so I took a stack of them and I found this." 

Jim read the short obituary, and smiled. Blair looked stunned at his reaction. They had tracked down the identity of Anna Jeffreys, who married Edward Jeffreys on February 14, 1934. Jim had tried calling her, but had gotten no answer at the phone number. Today, they had planned to stop by and let her see the couple she had brought together. 

"She said that Edward wouldn't forget Valentine's Day," Jim said, closing the newspaper. Anna Jeffreys had died quietly in her home the evening of February 14th. 

"So you think...?" 

"They were together 67 years, and it was their anniversary. What do you think she would have wanted most on that day?" 

"To be with him?" 

"Exactly. And I think he came back for her," Jim stated simply. "I'd rather be with you than anywhere by myself." Jim smiled as Blair did. 

"I guess she's probably a lot happier with him," Blair said, nodding and smiling. "It's kind of romantic, when you think about it that way--that he came back for her on their anniversary." 

"And the last thing she did before she left this world was bring two people who were in love, together. I think that's a pretty nice way to exit, sweetheart," Jim said softly, and Blair smiled at the first use of the endearment. 

"Can we get her some roses? Just so she knows we won't forget?" 

"We'll get some today. And how about every Valentine's Day--on our anniversary?" Jim responded. 

"Perfect." 

"Just like us," Jim said, his eyes darting around the bullpen before planting a rapid-fire kiss right on Blair's mouth. Leaving his partner sitting there stunned, recently kissed mouth agape, Jim hummed quietly as he started up his computer and went about his work as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

//Thanks, Anna. I hope Edward had a rose waiting for you on the other side.// 

End  
Happy Valentine's Day! 


End file.
